Staring into space
I see everything at once
No matter who you’re born
When you’re done
You are done.
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I play my part as she sings me to sleep
Taylor calls for me from those stairs in Italy
I’m walking by a pay phone on the beach
Reminders from the East and a girl named Cicily
Talk me into circles out of reach
Send letters won’t you son to remind us what you’ve done
Don’t be a stranger call us once a week?
I buried what was left of my heartache in a trench
On that lonesome stretch of sand I was released
Now Bret he reads the lines in the background of my mind
There’s no one in this room to hear me sing
When journaling in thought feels like a raven’s claw
It’s Taylor who sits calmly next to me
The grass rests underneath her cheekbone by the sea
While chemicals channel flowing dreams
It’s 8am in August while I pour the gin and tonic
Listening to the ocean’s cresting wave
The cobblestone in Rome for which once walked me home
Now Cicily I hear her gently speak
There’s no such thing as time, if you believe that then that’s fine
But darling I’ve got no tears left to weep
I did my best to please the priest listening to me
Still Lucas rest assured me of my grief
I didn’t have to sail to France to find a girl to dance
I just went out every night for one last drink
So now as Taylor calls to me from those stairs in Italy
I pick her up once more from memory
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
I pick her up once more from memory
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
When Vonnegut takes shots at war
When Vonnegut takes shots at war
he doesn’t do with rifle or
fight with claims to settle scores
though prisoner he’d been before.
When Vonnegut takes shots at war
his words like steel are sharp and coarse
no fluff or zeal just fond remorse
for those who buried their loved and more.
When Vonnegut takes shots at war
his style’s frank no either or
like shrapnel strikes straight to the core
if death must come than make it pure.
When Vonnegut takes shots at war
his battle’s fought with valor worn
like Stars and Stripes and bones ashore
still “so it goes” forevermore.
two drifters anew
Their love before friends
as it always begins
then the world spun round
again and again.
Friends for the last
few phases of moon
the universe beckons
neither one to choose.
Spoken rather wisely
alone though in tune
while the world spun again
with nothing to lose.
Eyes look to the West
in Africa too
Eyes look to the East
this Hollywood noon.
There’s nothing to pardon
and no more to do
angelic they parted —
two drifters anew.
a deer in headlights
Some days
staring into space
is all
a boy can do.
Like a deer in headlights
an accident waiting to happen.
Others
the act
is a blinding
waste of time.
The difference is clear as night.
It can go either way.
Updates, Headaches, and Suppertime
The more my browser
tells me it’s out of date
the more, out of date
I feel. Perhaps
it’s time for an update.
Perhaps, it’s time for a meal.
A quiet thought in deafening times.
Staring
into
space —
born
is
another
babe —
daydreaming
alone.
Little things.
Some days
it feels
like
nobody cares
and then
out of nowhere
a
friend
gifts you
a space pen,
and, “yes Jerry,”
it writes upside down.
A last glance upon leaving.
Once filled empty space
Packed boxes and scratched wood floor
Dust bunnies waiting
